


time to dance on sorrows

by orphan_account



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, The Wicked Powers Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: TIME TRAVEL!Or, the TLH gang meets modern Jessa family; broken-hearted Herondales run amok; unexpected brOTPs develop; some much needed conversations take place; Mina makes many new friends. I hope you enjoy this insanely self-indulgent mess, it really is so much fun to write. Usually updates on Sundays!
Comments: 86
Kudos: 168





	1. Chapter 1

“This is horribly like that fight on Tower Bridge, isn’t it?” whispered Lucie to Matthew. They were hidden behind a half-collapsed column in what might have once been a ballroom, ready to interfere with the situation at hand at a moment’s notice.

James and Cordelia were in the center of the abandoned hall, where the very deadliest Downworld trades took place far below the Shadow Market grounds. Lucie didn’t want to think about the crimes executed on the cracked marble below her boots.

“Don’t you jinx it, Luce, we can’t risk our _parabatais_ at a time like this,” Matthew whispered back, his expression darkening. 

Lucie frowned. She hadn’t meant to trouble Matthew, but he was so tense lately. To be fair, so was everyone- _No one ever tells you how the peace after tumultuous times is anything but peaceful_ , she thought.

Lucie felt as though they were stuck in the eye of a very unpredictable hurricane, and so everyone was constantly on edge, not knowing when the quiet would erupt into fear and fighting once again. 

Just last week, they’d been attacked by a rare and unusual demon, and Jesse Blackthorn had captured it in a Pyxis box and saved their lives. Since they had little information on it the Clave had ordered it destroyed, and James had volunteered himself and his friends with an almost aggressive eagerness.

Lucie deduced that James was still shaken by his last encounter with a Pyxis. It would be understandable that he felt a need to rid the world of the traces of that experience.

She just wasn’t sure that insisting to rush headfirst into the mission was the wisest way to go about fulfilling that need. _Especially_ with the confusing demand that only himself and Cordelia were to face down the demon. 

Lucie tried to calm down. It wasn’t just the four of them here- all the others, trained and capable Shadowhunters, were ready to fight by James and Cordelia. She tried her hardest to be reassured by that fact as she watched James tentatively squeeze Cordelia’s hand- _interesting-_ before swallowing hard and opening the box. Lucie held her breath.

Nothing.

Lucie stood up cautiously. “I don’t understand.”

Clearly confused, Anna emerged from behind another pillar. “Wait, do not go too close-“ 

Just then, a deep rumble shook the ground, the Pyxis quivering atop its platform. Over the box, there was still no demon, but instead a rising, black, cloud of glittering smoke.

For one terrible, frozen moment Lucie was completely immobile; she could only watch as Cordelia flung out her hand to knock the lid shut. The very second her _parabatai_ 's palm touched the ancient wood, the dark smoke whirled through the room. As the world spun, Lucie locked eyes with Cordelia, a too-late warning catching in her throat seconds before her vision went black. 

************

Cordelia awoke, dazed. She was lying on some sort of field, Lucie still unconscious beside her. Cordelia immediately searched for two other faces, and exhaled, relieved upon locating them. There was James on her left, beginning to stir, and Alastair half-sprawled out on the grass next to Thomas. His already wiry frame looked all the more delicate when so close to Thomas’s, she thought, a little amused.

“Daisy, are you alright?” 

James’ voice startled her into thinking about the matter at hand. Where had they gone? Did the Pyxis contain some sort of Portal?

“Oh, yes- a little dizzy, that’s all,” said Cordelia, getting up and smoothing down her skirts. “James, do you have any idea-“

She was interrupted by a gasp, a shocked sound so unlikely to come from James that Cordelia spun around to the direction he was facing, fearing a demon attack or some other unpleasant thing. James had moved to steady Cordelia- _ever the gentleman,_ she thought ruefully- and had thus also been the first to set eyes upon what lay in the distance behind them. 

Cordelia’s mouth opened in shock. Speechless, she turned to James, who looked how Cordelia felt. 

“Good god, is that-?”

“Cirenworth? Appears so.” finished Cordelia, regaining the use of her tongue. 

James squinted. “I don’t recall nearly such a vibrant garden. Or a glass building. Or- Christopher, do you have any idea what that, erm, _contraption_ may be?” 

Around them, their friends gradually came to, all equally stunned. Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right, then. It seems we're in this together. What do you s’ppose we do? It is your house,” he said, looking at Cordelia. 

Alastair made an indignant noise behind him. Cordelia ignored that, glancing ahead at the building that was her home- and yet _not_ her home. "I suggest we go inside," she said decisively. Upon her brother's doubtful look, she added, "We will just have to hope that whoever is here helps us make sense of this."

The rest of the group seemed to agree with her- because it was a good choice or because it was the only one, Cordelia didn't know- and, though still dizzied from their unnatural travel, slowly picked their way across the well-kept grounds to the entrance. Clearly the manor was not empty, and it was indeed changed, but... _My family cannot possibly be here_. Cordelia thought. _So who is?_

Suddenly, she detected an unusual noise- the clang of metal on metal, like a swordfight was taking place just around the corner. “Everyone stop,” she ordered, listening carefully. She met James’s eyes. “Someone is here. And they are armed. We need to be careful.” 

Just then, the sounds stopped, and they heard footsteps approaching. Whoever was coming would see them in a manner of seconds. Cordelia tensed, drawing Cortana- 

And halted, the threats she’d been about to make still on the tip of her tongue. 

The boy who stood in front of her, looking as though his world had just turned upside down, couldn’t have been more than eighteen. He was wearing very odd- _and rather revealing-_ clothing, he had a great many runes, and what looked to be tattoos?- but none of those things were what made Cordelia stop in her tracks, Cortana still raised. 

It was his eyes. He had Will’s eyes. Cecily’s. Anna’s. Whoever this boy was, he had Herondale blood. Cordelia turned to her companions, who had evidently arrived at the same conclusion she did. Whatever was going on just got even more complicated. 

************

Kit Herondale, breathing hard, grinned as he dodged the blow Drusilla dealt him. Swords clashing, he managed to back her up against a large rock and knock her weapon from her hand in one fell swoop. Dru smiled, all teeth, before flipping him over her shoulder and disarming him. Kit gritted his teeth, and sprang back up, pulling Dru around and whipping his prized dagger out of his belt, holding it to her throat. That’d become his signature- Kit found that he had a penchant for drama in a fight, especially when most of his opponents were so _boring._ She grimaced, panting, and he let her go. 

“I won that round!” he crowed, running his fingers over the prized blade. He knew every ridge and every engraving, the dagger more familiar to him than his own hand. “Dru, you should know you’re one of the only people I ever have to exert real effort when fighting.”

“Oh, I’m honored,” she said, sarcastic. “I let you win, Herondale. And fancy dagger tricks won’t save you in a real battle.”

Kit laughed. “Whatever. I’m done training. Want to come see a movie or something? There’s a new one on Netflix about self-aware zombies created by the government. Not a completely fictional concept, if you really think about it.”

Dru’s eyes lit up, but she said, “Rain check that? I have a babysitting date with Thais. Helen and Aline need an afternoon off from being moms.”

“Ah. The two of you are learning how to parent early! Are you sure you know what you’re doing? I don’t know if I should send you back, Drusilla. I might be doing Helen a favor by refusing to let you babysit.” 

“Excuse you, Thais and I have four cats between us. This can’t be that much different.” 

“Okay, okay fine, compare your … furballs to a newborn. Definitely the same thing.”

“Kit!” she whined good-naturedly. “I need your support! Please? I’ll buy you cookie dough if you make me a Portal.” 

“You just want me to do your bidding, you manipulator,” said Kit, but he was already creating the Portal, white light twining around his fingers. She smiled, waving at him before stepping through. Kit stuck out his tongue, and then closed the Portal behind her. 

What to do now? He might as well train a little more. According to Jem, there was no such thing as too much running. 

Kit increased his pace. Maybe he could run to the candy store at the edge of town and back, buy Mina a little something. Besides, there was a cute boy who worked there. He had soft-looking black hair, almost like… 

And then he turned the corner, and all thoughts of candy and boys with soft hair flew out the window. 

Before him stood about ten or eleven disoriented-looking people, dressed in old-fashioned clothing- like Tessa described to him. One of them, a tall girl around his age, with clouds of long, scarlet hair, brandished a sword at him, then stopped, looking surprised. In fact, all of them looked surprised. 

Kit looked at the sword inches from his nose, his eyes widening as he realized what blade he was looking at. 

“Cortana?” he asked disbelievingly. _So they’re Nephilim_. Though, now that he looked more closely, he saw runes peeking out from under the necklines and sleeves of their clothing. 

The girl lowered her sword. “You are familiar with Cortana?”

“Yeah, that’s Emma’s sword...” Kit’s stomach bottomed out as his gaze traveled past Scary Sword Girl and to the people behind her. Specifically, two people. 

Kit’s jaw dropped. A girl who looked so much like Tessa, and a boy whose facial structure mirrored Kit’s own. Two people whose photographs he saw every day. 

“James? Lucie?” he whispered, shell-shocked. 

************

James had no idea what was going on. It all seemed surreal, like a dream. This boy appeared out of nowhere, had his father’s eyes, and somehow knew his and Lucie’s names, but James had never seen him before. 

Speechless, James turned to Lucie, who stepped forward. She said, “How do you know who we are? Why are you outside my _parabatai_ ’s home?” 

James didn’t think this boy's eyes could get any larger, but now they nearly bugged out of his head. “ _Parabatai_?” His brows furrowed, as though he was trying to remember something. He looked at Cordelia. “You’re… Cordelia Carstairs.” 

“Yes,” Cordelia said after a pause, not without suspicion. 

The boy looked past James and Lucie, realization dawning on his face. James felt out of the loop, like this boy knew something about James he didn’t know about himself. James exchanged a look with Matthew, who looked apprehensive. 

The boy moved closer to them. “You’re- you’re Tessa’s kids.”

“Not all of us, but yes,” said James. “How do you know my mother?”

“And…you’re their _parabatais_ ,” the boy continued slowly, glancing between Cordelia and Matthew. 

“Yes. Now, how do you know all that? Who are you?” cut in Matthew. James could see his fingers trembling, perhaps itching for his flask, and placed a steadying hand on his _parabatai’_ s shoulder.

The boy was starting to look a great deal less confused and much more like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He appeared not to have heard Matthew. His gaze intensified, and landed on Jesse. There was a pain in his eyes James recognized. 

It was the same one James saw when he looked in the mirror every day, thinking about Cordelia. The same essence of sadness and of love that Lucie carried when she mentioned Jesse, or their father about Jem and Tessa. 

_Herondales love but once._

The boy drew himself up, a muscle working in his jaw. “My name is Kit Herondale,” he answered, his eyes never leaving Jesse. 

They had all known it, but hearing it said aloud and confirmed was different. All around them, sharp inhales and shock. Everyone silently tried to make a connection between themselves and this boy, and everyone failed to do so. 

The boy looked deflated. “You’d better come inside,” he said into the silence. “There’s clearly things we need to figure out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're liking this! find me on tumblr @fairchild-squad :)


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as they entered Cirenworth, James heard Cordelia gasp beside him. Without thinking, he reached for her hand, flinching when she drew away and silently moved to stand beside Lucie. 

James pushed down the hurt- he deserved it, after all- and ignored the worried look Matthew shot him. He kept his attention focused on the boy, who’d led them inside what looked like an oddly remodeled version of the Carstairs’s home. James barely recognized it. No wonder Cordelia has been so startled. 

The boy- _Kit_ , James reminded himself- had brought them to a strange drawing room of sorts, and motioned for them to sit down. 

James narrowed his eyes. The room was dusty, probably unused for many years, but the boy seemed like he belonged in the manor. Like Devon was his home. 

He watched all his friends cautiously choose their seats, but remained standing. Barely noticing himself clenching his hands into fists by his side, James said, "Start talking.”

The boy tilted his head, a challenging smirk playing on his face. “Ah! James. I’ve heard lots about you. I guess your lack of trust is no surprise. Though I don’t think you’d like to toss me into the Thames. Or shoot out the chandelier. It’s a nice one, don’t you think?” he said ruminatively, glancing up at the impressive light fixture.

James said nothing, his mind racing to figure this out and getting absolutely nowhere. Kit said, “Wait here,” and left the room, throwing one last glance around as if to warn them not to go anywhere.

As soon as he was out of sight, Thomas spoke up. “James, Luce- he can’t possibly- d’you think he’s _related_ to you?”

James said tightly, “I don’t know. Listen, Anna, what do you think? He lives here, yes? He seems comfortable enough here not to be a squatter- though he sounds American. Like Mam.”

Anna, like Lucie, could read people better than most. She said thoughtfully, “I believed so too. I think there is something in this house he does not wish us to see. Something that can tell us how he seems so familiar with who we are. Lucie, could you slip out, take a look around?”

“I can do that. I just- I’m not exactly sure we can trust him-”

“Now, there’s no need for all that,” drawled Kit. He’d returned, leaning against the doorframe with a box in his arms. James instantly stiffened. 

“How long have you been there?”

“Long enough.” Kit smiled, and James again got the feeling there was something essential that he was missing, the most important piece to the puzzle. “I _was_ trained by the best.” 

He came forward, placing the box on a low table. James reached for it, and pulled out the contents. Inside the box where photographs- so many photographs. He saw Anna and Matthew, laughing; Alastair, serious-faced and regal; Cordelia with Lucie; after their _parabatai_ ceremony…

James looked at Kit, uncomprehending. He _remembered_ that photo, the ceremony had barely been a few months ago- and yet the photo was aged, worn around the edges and fading a little. 

Kit said, “I am immensely uncomfortable. I’m just going to wait for you to make the connection.”

Christopher sat up suddenly. James could practically see his mind at work as he frowned perplexedly, and said to Kit, “You’re not- we are- how?”

Kit seemed to understand Christopher’s alarm. He said, “Yes. I don’t know how, though.”

Alastair sighed loudly, looking like he’d had enough with the mystery. “Would someone explain what’s going on here?”

Kit took a deep breath. After a beat of silence, he said, “Somehow… you are all in the future.”

Cue absolute chaos. 

Thomas demanded to know how. Grace paled, looking on the verge of fainting. Christopher was delighted at solving the mystery, Matthew agitated, Alastair murderous. Cordelia looked harrowed, and James had the very bad idea to get up and comfort her- 

Lucie stood up and threw a vase. It broke against a wall, effectively quieting everyone. James hid a smile. Leave it to his sister to take matters into her own hands. 

Everyone looked at Lucie, who dusted her hands off casually. She said, “I chose the least expensive-looking one to smash. I do hope you don’t mind.”

Kit burst out laughing. “You’re just like Te- You’re just like Magnus said.”

Matthew bolted upright, his hair sticking up. “You know Magnus Bane?”

Kit was serious again. “More importantly, I know _you_.”

“Do you really? Alright then, name us all,” Matthew said curiously.

Alastair rolled his eyes. “Fairchild, it’s not the time for ridiculous games.”

“I’m not playing games! I’m genuinely intrigued!” protested Matthew. Kit, apparently unable to resist a challenge, did exactly as Matthew said. Meanwhile, James's thoughts were still whirling. Just now, Kit had been about to say “Tessa”, James was sure of it. But how did he _know_ her? 

More importantly, James hadn’t considered that his mother was still here. Of course, objectively, that made sense, but if Kit was telling the truth about where- _when-_ they were... Well, James had no idea just how far in the future they'd gone. _This is all like a bad dream_ , he thought with a sick feeling in his chest. If his mother was here, what would that mean? Was James long dead to her, now?

Had his mother forgotten him? 

The room had fallen silent, everyone shocked by Kit’s familiarity with them. True to his word, he’d been able to identify all of them, somehow. Grace, of all people, said, “So you know who we are. But who are you?”

Kit looked like he’d been dreading that very question. “My full name is Christopher Jonathan Herondale. The year is 2015. You are in the future by over a century,” he said, carefully. Too carefully. He was definitely hiding something. 

“And…?” prompted Thomas. “This is strange, but we… understand that, somewhat. There must have been an odd sort of Portal in the Pyxis. Still doesn’t explain why you know so much about us.” 

“My education was very thorough. It required extensive knowledge of Shadowhunter family trees.”

“Family trees won’t tell you about Jamie’s drunken rampages.”

“Matthew, that was one time-”

“You’re right,” said Kit, hesitating. “The thing is, I’m related to you.”

“We _know_ that,” said James impatiently. “You’re a Herondale, we must share blood somehow. How exactly are you related to us, though?”

Kit shook his head. “That’s not- That isn’t what really matters,” he said frustratedly, raking his hands through his hair. “You’re not asking the right questions-” Helplessly, Kit cut himself off, clearly not knowing what to say. 

In the corner of his eye, James saw a flicker of movement. Lucie had leaned forward, and was staring intently at Kit. Very deliberately, she said, “Then try answering this. How exactly do you know my mother?”  
  


********

  
  


Kit was trying really hard not to freak. The people Tessa and Jem told him stories about were here. In his living room- well, actually, in a living room their family didn’t use. Kit had intentionally brought them there, not wanting them to know the whole truth about who lived here just yet. Their family room had no shortage of photos, books, and artifacts that would give it away immediately, and that wasn’t how Kit wanted his adoptive half-siblings to find out. 

He had to tell them eventually. But how? Kit decided to show them pictures again- that might help him with some hard explanations. He pulled out his phone, deciding not to acknowledge the baffled looks aimed at the device. If he had to, he'd explain that later. 

Ignoring Lucie’s question, which had left everyone unsettled and confused, Kit scrolled until he got to a picture of him and Mina, smiling toothily with ice creams in hand. Looking up at them all, he said, “I know all of your stories well. It’s time for me to share part of mine.” Turning the phone so they could see the image, he went on, “This is my sister.” 

“What’s her name?” asked Ariadne curiously, at the same time as Alastair observed, “She doesn’t look much like you.”

Kit heard the question behind their words, the one they all had but dared not voice aloud: _What do we care about your sister?_

“She’s....very relevant, I promise. And her name is Mina. Wilhelmina Yiqiang Ke,” he said, his voice breaking, “Wilhelmina Yiqiang Ke Carstairs.”

“Carstairs,” Cordelia breathed. 

“Yes.”

Lucie looked pained. “Are your parents… Cordelia’s relatives? Her descendants?”

“Not quite,” said Kit. He was starting to think Lucie was very close to figuring out what was going on, and he didn’t want to hide it until she guessed. Hastily, he said, “Listen, Mina and I have different, well, different _birth_ parents. Hers took me in when mine died, a few months before she was born, but I have always considered her a sister to me. It’s her parents that matter the most here, not mine.”

James inhaled sharply. His voice was hard as he said, “What are you not saying?”

Deciding to spare them further suspense, Kit said as steadily as he could, looking directly at James and Lucie, “My adoptive parents, and Mina’s biological parents, are James Carstairs and Tessa Gray.”

Lucie gasped, staggering back. Cordelia looked like she was about to fall herself, but caught Lucie by the waist and set her down on the sofa. James opened his mouth and then closed it again. He stayed standing, but Kit saw Matthew pale, and touch what Kit knew must be his _parabatai_ rune. Likely he was feeling James's own turbulent emotion, and expressed it where James wouldn't. Kit gazed at them silently, waiting for a reaction, an angry question, _something_ , but all he got was stunned silence from the assembled Shadowhunters. 

“How?” demanded Cordelia angrily. Kit could definitely see Jem in the gentle protectiveness with which Cordelia held a white-faced Lucie, as though to keep her from falling apart. “You cannot say that with no further explanation!” 

Kit sighed. As straightforwardly as possible, he explained that Jem was no longer a Silent Brother, that he and Tessa met again, that they married and settled down in Devon. “And so… Mina is their daughter. She is my sister.” He lifted his chin, finished. “Say what you will about it.”

Lucie’s eyes swam with tears, Cordelia’s arm still around her comfortingly. James watched Kit, his face unreadable. Kit could tell he was shocked and trying to process it, though, if only by the same guarded solemnity Tessa always showed when she was unnerved. Finally, he said, “And you? What is your story? How are you a Herondale?”

Kit hadn’t been expecting James to care about that. Slowly, he said, “My mother was a Herondale. She is descended from…,” he hesitated, knowing James caught his reluctance to elaborate on his heritage, “Dangerous forces. The line of Herondales I come from split off from yours long before you were born.” 

“How did you end up with Aunt Tessa and Uncle Jem?” asked Cordelia, white-faced. 

Kit tried not to let any vulnerability show on his face. He said, trying hard to keep his voice clear and his tone matter-of-fact, “I was raised as a mundane until I was fifteen. Tessa and Jem searched for me for many years, and took me in when I had no one. I come from a family with a long history of being hunted. I owe them everything for keeping me protected and showing me how to protect myself.”

James asked, “You're telling me my mother really lives here?”

Kit nodded, wondering if James knew his whole body was trembling. “I can… I can show you, if you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I shamelessly parallel TDA? yes of course
> 
> please do let me know what you thought of this chapter! thanks for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

Kit took them to a different room, less dusty and more inhabited-looking. Lucie reached out blindly for Cordelia’s hand, needing her _parabatai_ ’s strength to stay standing- for what looked to be portraits, like _incredible_ photographs, hung on the walls. 

Lucie saw her mother, in strange clothing, and Uncle Jem, a Silent Brother no longer. This Jem looked… normal. Mundane. There were so many pictures of them all, and especially of Kit and his sister. _Lucie’s_ sister. 

She did not know how to feel besides her confusion. Everything surreal and hazy; there was a part of her that thought she must be sleeping, caught up in a half-nightmare half-dream. That part wanted nothing more than to wake up from all of this. 

Lying beneath that, however, was a discernible clarity, a knowledge deep down that this was real- and happiness that her mother was not alone as they'd always feared. On the far wall, there was a carefully kept collection of photographs: her own, James’s, her father’s. Lucie felt a lump rise in her throat and tried to hide her shakiness even as she collapsed down into the nearest chair, the others quickly doing the same. 

Kit said, “I have heard your stories because Tessa and Jem did not wish them forgotten. I know you were- are- heroes.” Looking over at Lucie, he said seriously, “She loves you very much.”

Though Lucie tried to take comfort in his words, she felt the tension in the room increase, heavy and palpable as muggy summer air. Kit seemed to sense it, as he did most things, because he said, “You must be tired. I can get you something to eat, someplace to rest?” The hospitality he offered was at odds with the wariness he’d shown earlier, his tone shifting to become cordial.

Probably thinking the same thing, James said, efficient and cold, “Thank you, but we must get back to where we’re supposed to be. Christopher, you’ve studied these things, do you have any idea how this happened? How we might get back to our time?”

Kit didn’t back down. “I know you don’t trust me. That’s very reasonable of you,” he said pleasantly. “However, you do understand that it will require a great deal of magic to send you back? Likely you will be here for several days, if not weeks, so I suggest you make yourself comfortable.” He suddenly looked very tired. The snark in his eyes flickered, revealing a bone-deep weariness as he reached up to massage his temples. “By the angel, how am I going to explain this?”

Just then, the sound of a baby’s wails drifted down to them. Forgetting all about his guests, Kit sprinted up the stairs, leaving them all dumbfounded- as they’d been since the Pyxis, so no change, really- and returned with a small child in his arms. She had messy black hair, and she was rubbing her eyelids and yawning. 

Hesitantly, he slowed his walk as the entire group stared at him. He said a little guiltily, “This is Mina. Mina, say hi.”

Mina looked shy. She turned into Kit’s chest, who pulled her closer for a moment, and tickled her side. She laughed, wriggling in his arms, and Lucie felt something bubble in her chest. This was her _sister_. 

Lucie, as if in a trance, walked up to them. The similarity to James and Will in Kit’s face was unnerving this close up. She said, softly, “Can I hold her?” 

Kit hesitated, but nodded, transferring Mina over. Lucie caught her breath. She had Lucie- and Tessa’s- chin, but her eyes, her hair, her smile- that was all definitely Uncle Jem. 

Mina said, “Lu-Lu,” reaching out to poke Lucie’s cheek, and Lucie’s eyes prickled. Her sister knew who she was. 

Kit, who Lucie was beginning to think was very good at analyzing people’s emotions, said, “They point out the pictures to her every night and tell her about you, about how much you would love her.”

Lucie felt a sudden rush of trust for this boy. After all, he was her brother, no matter the technicalities involved, and he had been understanding and welcoming. He trusted her with Mina, whom he very clearly cared about more than anything else in this world. Lucie gently set down Mina, and flung her arms around Kit. He seemed startled, but returned her embrace. Pulling away, she grinned at him. “I have two brothers!” she exclaimed joyfully, her confusion set aside for the moment. 

Then Kit smiled, a smile so much like Lucie’s own, like sunshine that couldn’t be contained, and Lucie realized that for all his humor he’d been uncertain about the Herondales’ reaction to him. He said, a little cautiously but mostly pleased, “And I have two sisters.” 

Mina had toddled over to James, who looked like he didn’t know what to do with her. “By the _Angel,_ James, she’s your sister, stop looking so pitiful and lost,” Lucie groaned, still standing firmly by Kit’s side.

Kit snorted. Lucie had the feeling her stay, short or long as it may be, was going to be very entertaining. 

  
  


********

Two hours later, Kit had managed to get all of his guests food and places to sleep. Mina was toddling off somewhere, Ariadne and Cordelia cooing over her. Kit didn’t want her out of his sight, but something about Cordelia- probably the fact that she was Lucie’s _parabatai_ \- made him want to trust her. He sighed. He did not need this to worry about right now. 

Kit traced his one of his own runes absently. He wondered- 

A crashing sound shook him out of his stupor. Losing his train of thought, Kit skidded downstairs, fearing the worst, and breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that the source of the disturbance was, unsurprisingly, Christopher Lightwood, who’d been examining the microwave with a sort of renowned fascination. 

Kit tried not to laugh. He explained how the microwave worked to Christopher while he repositioned it on the counter, noting the other boy’s growing excitement. It made him want to see what kind of reaction a computer, or even better, a _movie,_ would produce from him. 

The crash had sent others running to the kitchen as well. Kit had to explain what a microwave was three more times, then answer questions about coffeemakers, the contents of the pantry, and virtually every other part of the kitchen. Silently, Kit bemoaned Tessa’s fondness for complex kitchen appliances. _He_ didn’t even really know what all her baking equipment was, and found himself with no clue how to explain those things to the other Shadowhunters. 

“Listen, man, I don’t really know how else to describe a garbage disposal-”

“You mean to tell me you just have a monstrous sink with tiny whirring blades inside of it?!” wailed Matthew in a high-pitched voice, waving his hands around. “That’s what you people call _normal_ nowadays?”

“It gets rid of food waste!”

“There has to be a different way to rid yourself of the bits you don’t want, no need for a bloody demon sink-”

“It’s not a demon sink,” said Kit, exasperated. “I need to go take care of something. Stay here if you like, just don’t destroy anything.”

“You mean, watch Christopher and make sure he doesn’t set anything on fire,” said Matthew casually, like acts of arson were commonplace within their group. 

Kit’s eyebrows shot up. “I guess Isabelle isn’t the first Lightwood to be the source of kitchen fire, then.”

“ _What?_ ” cried Matthew, astounded, but Kit was already gone. 

********

  
  


Kit searched his pockets for his phone, meaning to call Magnus before anyone else, but cursed aloud when it became clear he’d left it somewhere. He headed for his room, shouldering open the door- 

And jumped back, startled. Alastair Carstairs, of all people, stood in the middle of the room, examining something on the wall, hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Um…. Can I help you?” asked Kit, thoroughly confused and unsure about whether to be annoyed or not. 

Alastair turned to face him, and said abruptly, “You are allowed to show your love for other men, are you not?”

Kit sucked in a breath, realizing what Alastair had been staring at. Pinned onto Kit’s wall, right above his desk, was a photo-booth picture of him and Ash. In the pictures, he was kissing Ash’s cheek. They’d always been affectionate, but that photo was a joke between Kit and his best friend.

Though just because that one photo wasn’t romantic didn’t mean Kit couldn’t honestly answer the question. 

Carefully, Kit said, “Yes. It’s not easy. But I imagine it’s a little easier than what it might have been like for- well, for someone who loved outside of what they say is “normal” in your time.”

Alastair was expressionless. “Is that boy your- I mean, are you-”

“He’s actually one of my closest friends- but nothing more than that.”

Alastair’s face shuttered, and Kit said quickly, “I- I love men and women. Romantically. Just not that man,” he concluded, laughing a little. “Ash is the brother I never knew I wanted, though.”

“You have another one, now,” said Alastair solemnly, and Kit knew he meant James. Deciding to stop that line of conversation before it started- Kit had no clue how James felt about him- he said, “What about you? Who do you love?”

“His name is-” Alastair cut himself off, looking startled. “I love men.” 

“Men? Or man? As in one man specifically?”

Alastair glared at him, and Kit was surprised to see that the resemblance to Emma was apparent in his stare more so than in Cordelia. Then, his expression softened, and he said, “I was going to say a name- it just wasn’t at all the one I thought I would say.”

Kit looked at Alastair searchingly for a moment. Finally, he said, “How did you get in here in the first place?”

Alastair stepped back. “You forget that this is my home. Well, in your head, it _was_ my home, in the past. The point is, I know this house, and this is my room.”

“Ah.” Kit felt awkward, not really knowing how to respond to that. Relieved, he located his phone, trying not to make it too clear that he wanted to get it and then leave as soon as he could. “Would it- I mean, would you be more comfortable staying in here-?”

“No, no, that’s quite alright,” said Alastair. “ I just wanted to see what my room would be like a century after I lived in it, I do not wish to disrupt you. I imagine this is all very odd for you already.”

“That’s… one way to put it,” said Kit, surprised at the consideration. Alastair, no doubt feeling just as uncomfortable as Kit was, made to leave the room. 

Kit cleared his throat, surprising himself when he spoke. “For whatever it’s worth… I think you should tell him.”

Alastair’s hand was still on the doorknob. He turned to face Kit, a faint smile on his face. “Do you really?”

“Yes?” It came out as a question.

“Hm. Well, I think _you_ should take your own advice before recommending it to others.” 

Kit froze, but Alastair had left immediately, the door clicking shut. 

He sighed, deciding to tell himself he had no idea what Alastair meant. Pushing the thought from his mind, Kit dialed Magnus’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying this so far.


	4. Chapter 4

As the phone rang for the fourth time, Kit was beginning to worry that Magnus wouldn’t pick up. Finally, he heard a half-shouted “Hello?!” followed by what could only be described as unidentifiable crashing noises. It was like someone had used all their bodily force to topple a bookshelf. Or two, or three, or maybe twenty bookshelves. 

“Um...Magnus? This is Kit. Kit Herondale. Is now a bad time?” 

“No-No, sorry, if you’ll just give me a moment…” His voice trailed off, and Kit, now mildly concerned, heard the distinct bang of a slamming door, and chaos fading into the background.

“There.” Magnus sounded satisfied. “Alright, er… who am I talking to? Kit! Kit. Hello, Kit!”

“Magnus, are you sure you’re not busy-”

“No! It’s just your insufferable cousin, leaving me alone with his kids and his sister’s kid and my own kids, you know how it is. They vandalize all the furniture, knock over all the toys, try to practice magic on each other. Anyway.” 

Kit was not entirely sure he knew how it was. He himself was good enough with children but could not handle more than two at a time, and thoughts of the five Magnus was currently trying to restrain made him vaguely nervous. 

“Magnus, if you need to be paying attention to them, I get it, it’s not a huge deal,” he said, but Magnus cut him off. 

“Nonsense! Do you know what Tessa would do to me if I ignored one of her children’s pleas for help?”

“Ah. In that case, it’s an emergency and I need you here, like, yesterday.” 

A long pause, and then Magnus exhaled slowly. “Have you told Jem yet?”

“Magnus. I know you hear this all the time- so please believe that I do not say this lightly. It’s a little more complicated than that.”

Another silence. “I’ll be there in five. But wait, I need to ask a few questions.”

“Can’t those wait until you get here?”

“Nope. Tessa made me a list of requisite questions I’m supposed to ask, in case the day ever came when you asked me for help. Standard procedure for when the kid under your care is being hounded by murderous fae royalty. I'm sure you understand.”

Kit was baffled. “She did _what_?” 

Magnus didn’t slow down to explain. He only said, very business-like, “Question one! Does this have anything, at all, to do with your heritage?”

“No?”

“Two, are there any ill-meaning fae involved?”

“No, no faeries-”

“Excellent!” Magnus sounded very pleased. “And finally, is this something you cannot fix with your own magic?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Alright. Like I said, I’ll just… deposit the children somewhere and be there in five minutes. I must say, Kit, I had hopes for you, but it seems you’re just as troublesome as your ancestors. Too bad you can’t meet them.”

It was something Magnus said every time he heard about Kit’s latest escapades, and it usually made him laugh, but this time... _Oh, Magnus. You have no idea._ Choosing to ignore it, Kit just said, “Thank you, Magnus. One more thing- when you Portal here, it’s very important that you go directly to the second-floor library and not anywhere else inside the house. You know the one, right?”

Magnus’s tone was careful. “Kit, you know I can’t help you if you hide things from me.”

Kit sighed. “Trust me, you’re not the one I have to worry about hiding things from right now.”

********

Magnus Bane did not know what to make of Kit Herondale’s request. Certainly, he had a long history with Kit’s family, no matter who you considered his family to be- but it was not those connections that made him drop everything to go to Kit’s aid. It wasn’t even that Tessa, one of his dearest friends, had asked him to look out for her adoptive son. 

It was that Kit had been in terrible situations time and time again, dangerous missions over and over, with explicit instructions that his first call for help was always to Magnus. And yet, he never had asked, even when it was a matter of life or death.

That he finally reached out to Magnus meant there were things at stake that affected others- others he cared for dearly. Otherwise, there was no way he would have done so. 

Though he was concerned, Magnus knew he had to keep his head, and called Jace Herondale. Odd how those two things correlated for once. Not waiting for a greeting, Magnus said, “Jace. Before you make any jokes about me shirking babysitting duty, you need to know that this is for Kit. Your cousin Kit. And because you care about him, when I open this Portal you are going to come back to the Institute and watch the children while I save his ass.” 

And with that Magnus hung up, and prepared himself for a visit to Devon.

********

Kit paced anxiously in the library upstairs. It wasn’t like the larger one on the main floor, with cozy alcoves and big windows, but instead a place to secure the more dangerous texts- the ones that had to be locked away out of pure necessity.

He’d asked Magnus to meet him here, partly because it was the only way he could make sure Magnus wouldn’t run into any drifting time-travelers before Kit could explain what was going on. The other, grimmer, reason behind his request was that they might just need to consult some of the books in here to find out what was going on. Occult knowledge was still knowledge, no matter how you put it. 

Right about now Kit was thanking his lucky stars Magnus was coming. If anyone could help, it was Magnus. In truth, Kit would have called Jem, but Jem coming home would have meant Tessa coming home…

A flash of blue sparks and the sound of rushing air, jarring in the stillness of the library, interrupted Kit’s thoughts. He turned around to see Magnus, as composed as ever, step out of the Portal. 

“So?” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “What’s this about?”

Kit explained as best he could, trying not to show how shaky he was. The whole time, the furrow between Magnus’s brows deepened. As Kit finished his story, leaving out no detail but his conversation with Alastair Carstairs, Magnus sat down heavily. He no longer seemed composed. 

“I know it’s hard to believe-” Kit began, but Magnus waved him off, the rings on his fingers catching the light as he moved. He said, his expression very serious, “Christopher, you have no idea how fortunate we are that you called me first.” 

Kit blinked. Before he could say anything, Magnus continued, “I have some information that will help. There are things none of you yet know that I need to tell you. But I need to ask your- your _guests_ a few questions first.”

Kit nodded. “I can make that happen.” Then he smiled. “Some of them are infatuated with you, Magnus, did you know that?” 

“Oh, who isn’t?” said Magnus dryly. “Off you go, then. I’ll get to work looking through some of these books, you get all the Shadowhunters here in one place.”

“That’s not nearly as easy as it sounds,” muttered Kit, but he felt slightly more energized than he had been. At least he wasn’t dealing with this alone.

Kit was already at the door, about to leave, before he thought better of it and turned back to Magnus. He looked at Kit over the worn book he was consulting, raising an eyebrow before returning to his task. Kit sat down across from him and stared up at the dusty rafters, searching for the right words to say. 

“Magnus, the thing is, I know my top priority should be to get them home as soon as possible, but it isn’t really.”

“Oh?” Magnus was still nonchalantly flipping pages, but Kit could tell he was listening. He went on, “Above else I just need to make sure Tessa isn’t hurt while we try to fix this.”

He could feel Magnus looking at him now, but Kit kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Kit. You don’t want me to tell her about this.”

“No,” Kit hated that he sounded unsure, and said again, firmly, “No. I am not any kind of stupid, Magnus. If whatever this is can be resolved before she and Jem get home, there’s no reason to tell her and break her heart. She shouldn’t have to go through that.”

Magnus nodded, even as he said, “Kit. You know there will come a time where we can’t hide it.”

“I know.”

“And you know there is no way we can do this without Jem.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Kit expected that, but he was still dismayed to hear it. He knew what would come next-

“And you know he _definitely_ won’t be happy hiding it from her.”

“Magnus, I know the chance that we can do this in under a week is less than fractional, but I’m just asking for you to give me the benefit of the doubt. I can’t have Tessa feel that pain all over again.”

“I know, Kit. Believe me, I know.” An understanding passed between them then, the shared sorrow of people who loved and worried for the same soul. Magnus had been with Tessa when her wounds were freshest, and Kit spent enough time with her to see them harden into scars and pain carried for a very long time. 

Neither wanted Tessa to feel both kinds of grief again. Not if they could help it.

********

Kit sighed inwardly for about the millionth time that day. He’d finally managed to locate everyone and bring them to the kitchen- some more willingly than others- except a certain James Herondale. It had been no easy task to find Shadowhunters who so clearly did not want to be found, and Kit was going to give up the search and declare him missing when he realized that James, if he was anything like Tessa, was probably going to be hidden away in the shadows of the library. 

He went there next, and, sure enough, found James slumped on a dusty armchair, his head between his hands. As weird as it was for Kit to see him in regular- well, modern- clothes, he imagined it was probably a lot stranger for James and his friends themselves.

Kit felt tired just thinking about how he'd already had to explain several outlandish concepts, like jeans and sneakers, to people who were accustomed to wearing eighteen layers in the summertime. Maybe he should have expected he'd end up just giving spare gear to most of them. 

Once it became obvious that James hadn't noticed him, Kit cleared his throat and knocked conspicuously on a bookshelf. James raised his head, his face weary, and Kit felt about a million times more awkward, if that was even possible. 

He said, awkwardly jerking his thumb in the direction of the hallway behind them, “Everyone’s in the kitchen. I got Magnus Bane here, to help figure this out, and no one knew where you might be, so they, uh… I came to find you.” 

James nodded and got up, the movement slow and labored, as though it took all of his energy to rise from the chair. Kit bit his lip, only hesitating for a moment before he said, “You know, I'm the one who has your family ring.”

James looked up at him, a faint smile on his face. “This one?” He raised his hand, the silver band gleaming, and Kit couldn’t help but glance at his own, comparing them. James’s was less tarnished, the silver shinier, but the rings were one and the same.

Kit didn’t know what prompted him to say it, but there was no holding the words back once he began. He said, “Years ago I was faced with the choice of becoming a Shadowhunter or running away from them, when I was given this ring and told that it once belonged to you. I had no idea who you were back then, and to be honest I didn’t really care,” -that elicited a small snort from James- “But it was the first moment I thought about accepting my last name and the burdens that came with it. The gifts, too. I could have sold the ring, rejected the Nephilim, tried to scrape by on my own. Sometimes, I’m still surprised I didn’t do that.”

“It is a name that comes with it’s fair share of tribulations,” agreed James, his expression thoughtful, and the slightest bit amused.

“Yeah. But you have to admit it works wonders when you want something from most Shadowhunters,” said Kit, grinning. “Few are immune to the power of the name Herondale.” 

James laughed, then, and Kit felt like he’d made a step forward with Tessa’s first son. Small victories were better than nothing. He said, “Come with me to the library? I promise Magnus is still the same warlock. He won’t completely bite your head off.”

“So, still vital to rescuing the needy Shadowhunters who turn up at his doorstep?”

‘Exactly! Though, and you won’t believe this, he did end up marrying one of those needy Shadowhunters, so…”

The boys continued down the hall, exchanging various stories about the sticky spots they’d been in that Magnus saved them from. Unsurprisingly, the conversation quickly turned into a competition in which Kit and James tried to prove that they could out-Herondale the other by exaggerating about the most dramatic and dire of situations they’d ever been in. From what Kit knew of Will Herondale, he probably would have been proud. 

With some slightly threatening assurances that they would continue the debate later, the two of them stopped upon reaching the kitchen. Kit made a slight detour to sweep up Mina from Ariadne’s arms, with many protests (Mina adored attention; Ariadne clearly loved children), and went to the farthest corner of the room, where he could see all the assembled Shadowhunters. Most of them familiar with Magnus, they were perched upon whatever surfaces were available while they waited for him to start talking. 

Magnus himself was frowning down at yet another aged, yellowing book, muttering to himself. Kit knew it would be some time before he even began to ask all the questions he needed to, and he took the time to survey the room. It was one of the things Jem had insisted he be trained in- interpreting body language, and behavior, and expression. 

Kit found it to be an incredibly useful skill: in battle, in card games, in running the (occasional and _completely_ legal) con, even in navigating the trickery of the fae. It was simply an ingrained habit for him to now read these people as best he could. 

The first thing he noticed was that Alastair stood firmly in front of Cordelia, his guarded eyes darting around the room- as familiar as he was with his companions, he did not entirely trust them, and took his duty as protecter of his sister very seriously. 

Kit could understand that. There was no question that he would do anything for Mina, without a second thought about himself. Alastair especially had reason to be closed off from the rest. It was hard enough to be different from the people around you, and especially when you had so many secrets of your own and responsibilities to carry.

It made you want to protect the ones you loved as much as possible, if you couldn’t protect yourself. 

Before Kit could get farther into his own head, none other than Matthew Fairchild slid next to him. Mina gurgled happily, smiling, and Kit took that as a sign of approval to go ahead and make conversation. If Mina was okay with the boy, so was Kit. 

“Magnus is fantastic, isn’t he?” said Matthew. Kit could practically see the heart eyes. 

“You probably would have cried at his wedding.”

“Magnus is married?!”

“Sorry you couldn’t marry him yourself. But yeah. To the Consul. Who’s a Lightwood, by the way.”

Matthew whistled appreciatively. “No, no, I’m not worthy of such an honor. He is really _married_? And to the Nephilim Consul, no less! That is certainly a statement. Somehow I admire him even more now.”

Kit tried to hide his smile. “And to a man, too- a very good man, actually. They’re the most legendary couple around here.”

“You mean in this day and age, people can- I mean, two-”

“Yes. It’s not easy,” Kit said, remembering what he’d said to Alastair earlier. “But it’s there, and it's a possibility. I wish it was easier for all of you, too," he added, suddenly resenting that he had more freedom to love openly than most of these Shadowhunters ever would. 

“Yes. Love is never really easy, though, no matter who it is you love. Especially not around here,” Matthew said, making a general gesture towards the room.

“And who is it that you love?” Kit was curious. Many of these Shadowhunters seemed to be somewhat of an open book when it came to love- Anna’s sharpness was only softened by Ariadne, and Thomas had a look in his eye when he looked at Alastair that Kit was so familiar with he felt it deep in his chest. There were others, too- James and Lucie were unmistakably in some sort of complex tangle with Cordelia Carstairs and Jesse Blackthorn, respectively. 

But Matthew… Matthew was different, for some reason. His smile was sad when he said, “I have long realized that it is not any specific person I love and want, but love itself. I fancied myself in love with nearly every person in this room, not understanding I needed to love myself first.”

 _In love with love._ Kit thought about that as he asked, “And do you? Love yourself, I mean?”

“I am not sure I ever can,” said Matthew quietly. Subdued, but resolute. Not at all pathetic. 

Kit left it at that, thinking perhaps the best way to comfort Matthew was to show him you were neither judgmental nor pitying.

Instead he said, after some time, “Matthew, can I ask you a question? There is something I need to know about Lucie Herondale….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! Your words mean so much to me!!


	5. Chapter 5

Kit tossed and turned in his sleep that night, though it wasn’t like nightmares were anything new to him. Whether he rested well or not was kind of a fifty-fifty bargain every night. 

He wasn’t special, though. If Kit had to bet, he’d say at least four of the others were up because of insomnia and then another five with nightmares. _At least_. 

This morning, he’d woken up looking forward to another few days with Mina before Tessa and Jem came home, and a training opportunity with Dru Blackthorn. In a few hours it would be dawn, and he would wake up readying himself to feed a houseful of people, and then join Magnus in trying to find some solution or explanation for what was possibly the weirdest thing Kit had ever lived through. And that was no small statement. 

After a third nightmare, one where Tessa collapsed over and over again from pain he couldn't heal, Kit rolled out of bed, deciding that his fear couldn’t get the better of him if he had something to do. Kit thought about his conversation with Matthew Fairchild, of what the other boy had told him. _How likely is it for Lucie Herondale to be awake right now?_

Kit pulled on his gear and weapons belt, and slipped out quietly into the hallway. 

********

(A few doors down, Lucie Herondale was indeed awake.)

Lucie stared at the large mirror hanging in the room Kit had shown her to. It was a nice room- the furniture in it was more familiar to her than some of the other rooms had seemed. Maybe that’s why he left it for her.

In the dark, if she sat in front of the desk and scribbled down a few half-hearted lines to act like she was in the middle of a story, it was easier to pretend everything was normal. Lucie Herondale was in her own room, wearing clothes that were her own, writing with her own pen, and at any moment her ghost boy would drift in and make her smile.

Lucie pushed back from the desk away suddenly. She stood up and gazed into the mirror, trying desperately to continue the illusion, but she also saw the unfamiliar walls of this room in its reflection. It was not the mirror’s fault that she could not convince herself everything was alright, though. Nothing would be alright as long as she felt this way. And Jesse Blackthorn was never going to smile at her ever again. 

Lucie knew she would not sleep. She laced up her boots over the borrowed clothes she still hadn’t bothered to change out of, and left the room. She didn’t know if being silent even served any purpose- knowing her friends they were all awake- but she quickly inked a Soundless rune on her forearm anyway. 

Lucie was halfway down the long, seemingly endless hall, not knowing what she was fleeing from or where she would go, when she ran abruptly into Kit. He had been heading the opposite way, looking for all the world prepared to head into battle, and now he stepped back, his expression surprised and then rueful.

“I was coming to talk to you,” Kit said by way of explanation, twisting a ring on his finger. 

Lucie’s brows rose up. “Me? Why?”

Kit started to say something, but just then another door opened directly in front of where they stood. Of all people, because the universe _hated_ Lucie, it had to be Jesse Blackthorn that stepped out. 

Like Kit, he was in full gear, and seeing him like that, every inch a Shadowhunter, twisted a knife deep into Lucie’s chest. After he came alive for the second time he had been so sickly, so frail… so angry. Then he’d spent months in the Silent City, regaining health, training, doing who knows what else with the Brothers, and Jesse had returned unrecognizable- color in his face, life in his eyes, muscles filling him out, runes all over his skin. He was still angry with her, though. So immeasurably angry. 

Right now, he was expressionless. He seemed to look past them, as if searching for something in the hall beyond, but his gaze slid to Kit and then Lucie. Their eyes locked, and her heart stopped. Lucie choked on her breath, stricken, overwhelmed. 

She had not expected a moment of eye contact to make her feel like a heavy weight had slammed into her gut. Jesse seemed unfazed; Lucie expected she looked like a child frightened to be caught stealing sweets. 

She forcibly broke her gaze away, and said to Kit a tad too loudly, pleading with her eyes, “I agree! We need to leave. Now. This is a _very_ important matter-”

Kit seized her elbow, dragging her down the hallway and hauling her down the staircase with him. She wrestled out of his grip, disgruntled, and looked back in time to see Jesse’s gaze fixed on her. As soon as he saw her, he darted off the opposite way, melting into the shadows. Raziel knew what he was up to. 

Lucie sighed, and hurried to match Kit’s pace. They reached the landing, but he didn’t stop- only pulled out a few daggers and tossed them over his shoulder. Lucie caught them on instinct, admiring the painstakingly detailed etchings on their scabbards, even as she asked, “Kit, where are we going?”

“Patrol.”

“ _Patrol_?”

“Yes.” He turned and winked, a gleam in his eye, and Lucie smiled despite herself. He tossed a _stele_ back at her, and Lucie tossed it back immediately like it was about to catch fire. He looked back at her questioningly.

“I brought my own _stele_ ,” she said, annoyed. “As a matter of fact I have my own weapons, too. What fool goes anywhere unarmed?”

His lips curved into a smile. “You’re right. I should have known. I wouldn’t expect any less, from what I’ve heard about you.”

Not for the first time Lucie wondered exactly what it was he heard, but then they headed out into the streets, and she was caught up in marveling at the unfamiliarity around her. Soon enough Kit took a sharp turn and she found herself in an area that was more woods than civilization, walking deeper into trees and bushes until he finally dropped down on a large rock in a wide clearing and started laying out weapons around him. Lucie stared, baffled. 

“By the _Angel._ Whatever are you doing?”

“Well, it’s uncomfortable to sit down with weapons digging into your legs, don’t you agree, Lucie?”

Lucie wasn’t about to argue. She did the same, carefully pulling out the axes and knives she carried. 

Kit glanced at the stream of weaponry she drew out of her clothing, looking intrigued and a bit concerned. “How do you manage to hide all that?”

“Oh, does it matter? Why on earth did you take me out here if there aren’t any demons to fight?”

Kit stretched out on the rock, crossing his hands behind his head. She followed his movements, gazing up at the bright moon high above them. “There could be. There’s a doorway to Faerie not two miles from here that I’m forbidden from going near, but the demon activity surrounding it can be pretty bad.”

“Did you just want to get me away from everyone else? And what’s so bad about the Faeries here? ”

Kit hummed. “I thought it would make you more comfortable, to be outside.” He didn’t answer the other question. 

Lucie was bored of the small talk. What this conversation needed was a total change of subject. Lucie said to the ground under her boots, “Kit, are you in love?”

To her surprise, he smiled- not a joyful expression but a wistful one. “Right now? No. I think maybe I could be. If I tried hard enough.”

Lucie found that she knew what he meant. “Who do you love, then?” she asked. 

“You mean, who do I wish I could make myself love, or who do I actually love?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s _exactly_ what I mean. You remind me of- well. You remind me of myself.”

Kit thought for a moment, frowning. Above them, the trees rustled in a cool spring breeze, their leaves casting moving shadows across the clearing. “I don’t think that’s something I can talk about. He- I hadn’t seen him for years. He’s cold to me. No- not cold. Polite. So unbearably polite that it hurts. At this point, I have no idea how I feel. I… I thought I had let go.” his voice broke, and he put his head in his hands.

Lucie felt an ache at the truth of his words, and put her hand on top of his. “What’s his name?”

Kit straightened, his eyes hopeful and angry at the same time, but he shook his head. Instead of answering, he said thoughtfully, “But, you, Lucie. You’re in love with Jesse Blackthorn.” Not a question, but a statement of fact.

Lucie didn’t bother denying it. She reached up, clasping the locket she hadn’t taken off for months with both of her hands. Kit’s gaze flicked to it, his eyes widening fractionally for a second. 

She said to Kit quietly, “He’s so upset with me. He is like the one you spoke of. Polite. Cold. I know he is angry, but he never shows it, Kit. He is silent and distant and respectful. I’d rather he scream and yell that he hates me than treat me like any other stranger. I fear that one of these days I will lose my control. It’s already driving me mad-”

Lucie cut herself off, taking in a deep breath. She’d never said any of that to anyone before, not even Cordelia. “I don’t understand. How did you know about that in the first place?”

Kit looked bleakly amused. “Lucie, I think the only one who doesn’t see your blatantly obvious pining is Christopher. And while very brilliant, we both know he’s not going to use those observation skills to pay attention to the way you look at Jesse Blackthorn.”

“Why are you talking to me about this?”

“I guess I just wanted to know what motivated the whole necromancy thing.”

Lucie nearly fell off the rock. “You know about that?”

Kit said, “It’s a family thing, I think. Inherited, maybe? Is that how genetics work? I haven’t put a lot of thought into it.”

“Bloody hell, what are you _talking_ about?” Lucie was not in the least ashamed to have cursed in front of a gentleman. Kit somehow looked like he was both terrified and enjoying himself. 

“Your Jesse is the third Blackthorn I know tied to necromancy, did you know that? You’ve started something, Lucie-”

“Slow down! The _third_ ?! And he’s not _my_ -” Lucie flushed bright red in the dark. 

“Oh, yes. It’s quite the problem. Anyway. If my research was right- your life is tied to his?”

Lucie nodded slowly, the shock giving way to a resigned sadness she had carried in her heart for so long she almost forgot it was there. “It’s not like the _parabatai_ bond- he doesn’t feel any physical or emotional pain I feel- but if he dies, I will too.”

Kit had gone white, the color drained from his face. “And if you die-”

“It won’t work that way. Just his life affects mine.” Lucie said simply. She had grown used to the idea. 

“Because it was _you_ that brought him to life?”

“You see, it’s a little more complicated than that. If you haven’t noticed, the Clave hasn’t stripped my Marks and Jesse isn’t exactly in hiding. If I had deliberately brought him back things would be different, wouldn't you say?” Lucie couldn't help the iciness in her tone. 

“So… you didn’t purposely do it?”

“Once, I meant to. But- _No_.”

Kit didn’t inquire further. Lucie knew how her eyes darkened and her tone changed when anyone mentioned what Tatiana and Belial had made her do once they had control of her powers. Lucie didn’t mean to scare off Kit, but in truth she couldn’t care less about how he felt about her now. So far she liked this distant relative of hers, but she wasn’t going to make herself miserable and shaky telling him the story. She owed herself that. 

At least until she was ready. 

Kit spoke up at last. “Lucie, I hate to do this, but I think maybe you should give me the book.”

Lucie knew right away that pretending she had no idea what he meant would be futile. She drew out the thin booklet from her jacket pocket and held it out. Kit looked at it, then her, before tucking it away. “I take it you’re not going to answer any questions I have about this?”

“Of course not. How you knew about it is beyond me-”

He wiggled his fingers. In any other circumstances the gesture would have been amusing, but bright, white-gold light suddenly sparked around his hand, and Lucie gasped, startled. She watched, mesmerized, as the light coiled up above her head, like a serpent among the stars, and then faded to smoke. 

“When you have magic like this, there’s a “sixth sense” they tell you about when you start training. I have a very acute ability to tell the nature of an object of magic as soon as I identify it's existence. And, I should tell you, that book means nothing good. Dark magic as hellish as it comes.”

"I wish I could say otherwise, but I know a thing or two about dark magic. Kit, those pages have powers you have no idea about.”

“Oh, you carry too many dark secrets.” He sounded dejected. 

“I know.” She straightened her spine, as he had done earlier, and rose, packing away weapons quickly. “It’s nearly dawn. We should go back. The others will notice we're gone soon.”

Kit nodded, and they made their way back to Cirenworth. They were silent for the duration of the walk as the inky-black of the sky lightened into a gray sunrise. Kit stopped once, ducking into a bakery and returning with an armful of paper bags with a heavenly smell. Lucie stole a pastry and immediately felt better. From then on, the silence was companionable rather than tense, interrupted only by Luice’s questions about various modern devices that she immediately decided were pointless and unnecessary, upon finding out what they were. 

They parted ways inside the house, but Kit stopped Lucie just before she headed up the stairs. “His name,” he said, “is Ty. Ty Blackthorn.”

Lucie gave him a small smile. “I’ll see you soon, Kit.” 

Hesitantly, he said, “You know I’m going to have to give it to Magnus.”

She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “Find me after I conclude sobbing and pitying myself, and I’ll tell you what you want to know,” she said tiredly, waving his concern away.

“What should I tell the others?” Kit looked mildly panicked. 

Lucie rolled her eyes. “I was joking!” I’ll be at breakfast.” She looked up at the staircase, dreading passing one very specific door, and then made up her mind. “As a matter of fact, I’m helping you with it.” 

And she headed off to the kitchen, Kit in tow with his bakery bags, and put all thoughts of heartaches and Blackthorns out of her mind. 

********

At breakfast that day, conversation turned towards the inevitable topic Kit had despairingly hoped wouldn’t come up. Licking jam from his fingers, Matthew asked casually, “So, where are Aunt Tessa and Uncle Jem? You’re not keeping them locked up in the attic, are you?”

Lucie laughed nervously from her seat at the end of the long table, but Kit knew they were all wondering the same thing. They knew that Tessa and Jem were his family, and that they “weren’t home right now,” but not much else beyond that. 

Kit both wished Jem was with him and dreaded the idea. Either way he and Tessa were in L.A right now- Helen and Aline were hosting this year’s summit meeting for the Shadowhunter-Downworlder Alliance there. 

The first time they’d had the annual gathering, it struck Kit as remarkable that they would even _know_ about something as normal as a summit. It wasn’t anything for him to dwell over, but it did serve as a reminder. As much as the Shadow World was absolutely different from the everyday and mundane, it was sometimes startlingly similar, too. 

Kit realized he still hadn’t answered the question, and everyone was staring at him. He said quickly, “They won’t be home for a few more days. Longer if I can manage it.” 

“But where exactly are they?” James pressed. “Can we see them?”

Kit glanced at Magnus, who looked worried. He said slowly, blue sparks floating around his wrists, “They’re in Los Angeles right now, meeting with Shadowhunters and Downworlders. The Clave today is different from the one you’re familiar with, to say the least.”

James stood up, his chair flying backwards behind him. “I wish to speak with my mother. I don’t care about the Clave. ” 

“Said every likable Shadowhunter ever,” said Kit wryly. “I know you want to see Tessa. But we’re trying to help you, and this could be more complex and dangerous than you realize-”

“So why haven’t you told my mother?” James’s eyes flashed. “What aren’t you telling _me_?”

Kit turned to Magnus helplessly. The warlock snapped his fingers, and Kit found himself and James suddenly in his own bedroom. Kit sighed, sitting on his bed. 

James looked disconcerted, then peeved. He walked towards Kit, then away from him again. “Why would you _bother_ -”

“Because Magnus knows I have to explain this to you before the others. He’ll have told them as much. Sit down.”

“Explain what?”

“James, just sit down, will you?” Kit was exhausted from lack of sleep, and he wanted this to be over and done with as fast as possible. 

James was clearly irritated, but he sat down. Kit explained as best he could, trusting that James loved Tessa as much as he did, about what he and Magnus had decided was the best plan to tell Tessa. He tried to make James understand that he was only trying to spare her pain, but it was hard to gauge what reaction he would get. James’s face was as telling as stone. His only expression was an absentminded circling of his wrist, where a line stood out and the skin was paler, like he’d worn a cuff or armband there for a long time. 

Finally, as Kit finished, he said, “I’m not angry with you. I suppose I should have thought of that. This won’t exactly be the first time I’ve avoided seeing my mother because I didn’t want to break her heart.”

Kit exhaled, relieved. James was still talking, though. Looking directly at Kit, the tension visible in his shoulders, he said, “She’s going to find out anyway, isn’t she?”

“There’s a small chance she won’t.” 

Kit got up, leaving James staring at the wooden floor. He stuck his head out into the hall and called out loudly, “CAN SOMEBODY FIND ME MAGNUS BANE? And tell him I have something for him!” and then returned to his spot next to James as if nothing had happened. 

“I could have sent a fire-message,” Kit said belatedly. He shrugged. James still hadn’t spoken, and Kit saw that he was clenching his fingers around his bare wrist. 

“I talked to Lucie this morning.”

“Oh?” James sounded like he was trying his best to sound interested without letting on about his worry. “Is she… alright?”

“I only brought it up because talking to her made me think of you. Well, you and a certain Miss Cordelia Carstairs.”

James stiffened beside Kit imperceptibly. _I shouldn't have said anything_ , Kit thought, admonishing himself for any damage he'd caused to the already fragile bond he had with James. He did _want_ to connect with the other boy.

He was Tessa's, after all. 

“Kit, you said you had something for me?” said Magnus, poking his head in the doorway. “Is it in that correspondence we found in the library that you said you’d take a look at? Because I must warn you, the Nephilim of the eighteenth century had plenty of insanity going on so most of whatever you found is probably unrelated-” 

“Magnus! Come in! We’re discussing _feelings_!”

Magnus looked horrified, and reluctantly stepped into the room. “Everything in me is screaming to turn and run away right now,” he muttered under his breath. 

“What was that? And, before you answer, let me remind you of what Tessa will do to you if she finds out you abandoned us in a time of peril-”

Magnus sat down rigidly, though he still looked like he’d rather bolt to Edom than listen in on their conversation. Kit pretended he didn’t see it, and picked up where they’d left off. 

“ _A_ _ny_ how. James, I'm willing to bet my earrings- and mind you, these are very much real and also very expensive- that all your problems can be fixed with some honesty. That's what I always say, honesty, communication- those will never fail you." Kit nodded wisely. 

Magnus’s ensuing eye roll was very impressive, packing in more exasperation than should be possible in a momentary gesture. James was inclined to think that Kit was not, in fact, as skilled in honesty as he proclaimed himself to be. “Kit, I don’t think I can name any Shadowhunter with communication skills. Least of all you,” said Magnus.

Kit ignored this. “Magnus, tell him he needs to stop avoiding Cordelia-”

“Cordelia’s the one avoiding me!” James protested.

“Oh, for the love of-” Magnus stood up, took James by the shoulders, and said, very slowly, “Problematic Herondale number twenty-four. Are you listening to me?”

James wanted to ask if Magnus had really known twenty- three previous Herondales he considered to be “problematic,” but he kept his mouth shut. He nodded, staring into gold-green eyes. Magnus released him, though he still spoke very slowly, as if to make sure James got the point. “Go. Speak. To. Cordelia. It doesn’t matter what you say, just talk to her. She might not respond at first, but the important thing is you have to keep trying. Say anything. Strike up random conversations whenever you can. Show her you’re not going to give up. Understood?”

“Understood,” said James, still bemused, at the same time as Kit said, snickering, “I’d like to add to Love Wizard Magnus Bane’s advice. Just to be clear, “say anything” does not mean go and insult her dress or… her hair, or something.

“I would never! Daisy’s hair is beautiful, like-”

“NO. Stop talking, James. You Herondales have a tendency to spew poetry about your various great love stories and I simply don’t have time for it right now. But, yes. Problematic Herondale number sixty-seven makes a good point about not offending the lady.” Looking pointedly at Kit, Magnus said, “Now, if you don’t have anything relevant to the, dare I say, _larger_ matter at hand, I need to return to work.”

Kit shook his head dramatically, then tossed a thin book, like a journal, to Magnus. He caught it in one hand and eyed it curiously, then looked up at Kit. “Where did you find this?”

“Doesn’t matter. The second half is in some kind of demon language I haven’t learned yet, but I’ve identified it and I know it’s relevant to his-” here he pointed at James, like he was announcing the winner of a competition- “demon grandfather. It’s not too far of a stretch to assume someone around here can translate, and I know enough to have figured out that it dates back to right around when James was born.”

“Hmm. I’ll try my best to figure it out.”

“Okay. Er, try Lucie Herondale. She might be able to tell you a thing or two.”

“And thank you, Kit. This is the best lead I’ve found all day.”

Kit was grinning again. “You’re welcome, Love Wizard Magnus Bane.”

Magnus looked skyward. “Dear heavenly forces, if there’s anyone up there, I beseech you, grant me patience to deal with the most annoying of the Nephilim.”

“Oh, get out of my room, old man-”

Magnus laughed, but he didn’t need to be told twice. As his footsteps faded out into the background, James looked toward Kit. “What do you think?”

Kit held his gaze. “I told you what I think. I think I can try to push you to realize that avoiding the person you care about won’t ever solve anything or get you anywhere, but you have to figure it out for yourself.”

James recalled the ache he recognized in Kit’s eyes when he’d first seen him, and wondered if he was talking to himself more than he was talking to James. It was sound advice, though. 

James nodded, unsure how to thank this boy who was his mother’s second son, and got up to leave. Kit seemed to understand, though. He said, “I can ask Cordelia to, er, help you with something in the library, if you catch my meaning.”

“Thank you, but… I’m not sure I should force it.”

“Alright.” 

The boys stared at each other, a little awkwardness filling the silence, and then Kit went off to help Magnus, and somehow James found himself wandering into the glass-walled conservatory, with all manner of musical instruments inside it. He was glad his mother and Uncle Jem had been able to take joy in each other. And they had little Mina…

A voice filled the silence. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Uncle Jem’s addition, no doubt. I must say I wish he’d helped us decorate it.” Cordelia’s tone was light, conversational. James had half a mind to run away, but he remembered what Kit said, about seizing any opportunity to speak to Cordelia that he could. 

Forcing his tone into something pleasant and neutral, he said, not turning, “It’s very lovely. I think my father always hoped I would take after Uncle Jem and pick up music, but I preferred to read about things than do them.” 

Cordelia came up beside him, staring at the violin he’d stopped in front of. James felt the slight warmth of her body, and the force it took to restrain himself from crying out for her shuddered through him. All he wanted was to take her in his arms and make the pain go away. 

She said, very softly, “James. I’m tired of this game. I think I- I know we must speak. I want to make this-” she gestured between them- “alright again. And I know you do not love me. My mind tells me not to miss you, but- I do. James, I miss you.” 

_Oh, Cordelia._ James turned fully to face her, biting at his chapped lips until he tasted blood. She looked up at him, with the half-trusting, half-protective look of someone who had been badly hurt and was scared to venture into the world again. 

It broke James’s heart that he had been the source of such pain. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around his Daisy, and crushed her body to his. There would be time for words later. Right now, he just needed to feel her secure in his arms.

Willing himself not to cry, James held her tighter and tighter, and she held him back, a little hesitant, but she _held him back_ , and all he could think about was that maybe he deserved all the pain he'd ever felt, but Cordelia...

Cordelia deserved more than he could ever give her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you thought! :D


	6. Chapter 6

It took Kit ages to get Mina asleep. She was so excited, any pretense of shyness abandoned by now, and she had, after all, spent the day surrounded by a whole _new_ set of people who couldn't help but adore her. Wrangling her into bed that night when that was the last thing she wanted to do was arguably a bigger challenge than banishing the Riders of Mannan had been. 

Finally, Mina crawled under the covers, still chattering about how much she loved her new friends, with their cool weapons and willingness to sneak her cookies. Kit would never admit it, but he was mildly jealous. It was his job to show off swordplay to make Mina laugh, his job to pass her one last cookie under the table, tell one last bedtime story, give one last hug before he left for a mission, but maybe he'd let it slide. Just this once, if the company made Mina happy. 

Kit's thoughts suddenly jumped to the Julian Blackthorn of nearly four years past, how he had always been a father more than a brother. Kit respected Julian more than he ever let on, but he sure didn't envy the role. No, he liked being the fun one in his small family- the one Mina knew she could always have her way with, because he never had to be the one that told her no. 

Kit, crouched by the bed, willingly held Mina's small hand between his own as she fell asleep, her breathing slowly evening out and her eyelids fluttering closed mid-story. As he drew away, she gave him one last sleepy smile, the kind of smile that made Kit emotional the way only Jem and Tessa had seen ever him emotional, and settled back against her pillows. 

Kit hovered by the door until he was sure Mina was fully asleep, then closed it softly, wishing on the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling that she would have a good night's sleep, and good dreams. _Maybe throw in a good dream or two for me, too_ , he thought. Just in case anyone was listening. 

He remembered Dru telling him once, on a late-night mission in New York, that she used to wish on sunsets and sunrises, on high and low tides, on crashing waves, before it occurred to her that maybe each person only had a limited number of wishes, and maybe she had been stupid in wasting all of hers.

Kit had nudged her with his shoulder, and said fiercely, "To hell with that." She'd laughed, surprised, and he didn't let her ask before he continued, "No offense, but that's bull, Dru. Total crap."

"You think?" She looked down at the bustling city below them, all sirens and lights and music on a Friday night. Back then she was halfway through her time at the Academy, and she and Kit were just extra hands on deck for a mission in a bar half a block away. Typical bored teenagers, and they'd had a contest, scaling the side of the building they were assigned to wait by. To this day they argued endlessly about who won. 

Kit had rubbed the ring on his finger, frowning down at it. "I think every time you come up with a wish you should make it. Maybe there’s someone out there to hear it, maybe not. I don’t know, or particularly care, actually. But you should always at least make the wish. At least do it, so it's real. So it's not just inside your head."

She smiled. "Do you always get this deep at three in the morning? Or is it just the rooftop setting?"

"Very Hollywood-like, isn't it? There are good movies, and then there are movies with about ten dramatic existential moments on a rooftop."

Kit smiled, recalling the days when he and Dru were a little younger and relegated to the sidelines. These days, making wishes had become his and Dru's "Are you okay?” and their "I love you," and their "I'm here for you."

Years later it was familiar habit to wish on small things, mostly for his family and friends- for Mina to smile today, for Tessa to get good news, for Jace to get back from patrolling with the least number of injuries possible. Sometimes, though, Kit snuck in a secret hope for himself. 

Now, he headed to his room with every intention of sleeping as much as he could before whatever inevitable crisis was going to happen tomorrow. He was exhausted, and his mind kept wandering to Lucie and James, as lost and heartbroken as he was, and Tessa, who would return home not to two kids but four, and Anna Lightwood, who had looked the tiniest bit sorrowful along with her excitement when Kit was explaining modern clothes. 

Anybody could joke all they wanted about typical Herondale behavior, but Kit had at least a little common sense and knew when to ask for help. He knew this was all becoming too much for him very quickly, and if he didn’t share the burden with someone else soon both he and Magnus would collapse under its weight. 

Lamenting the nap he had been so close to getting, Kit changed course and headed to the library. He wasn’t sure how he would explain his idea, but he knew it was important that he and Magnus get someone else, someone trustworthy, to advise them on this. 

Kit was so caught up in the ideas whirling around in his head, he hardly noticed Jesse Blackthorn hurtling out of the corridor at a shocking speed until he body-slammed him. As Jesse apologized profusely, Kit stared distractedly at him, thinking of Lucie Herondale, and a promise to visit Baker Street, and the story of two golden giants, immense and staggeringly bright over the blood on the Imperishable Fields. 

Jesse said, again, “I’m very sorry! Are you alright?” and it was only when he extended a hand out to Kit that he realized the other boy had knocked him to the ground. 

Kit took the outstretched hand, standing up, and said, “It’s fine. Where have you been?” he asked, nodding at Jesse’s gear, which was stained red and torn in some places. 

Jesse clamped down his hand over a gash on his arm that was still bleeding. “I- I thought I would take a walk, but I overestimated how odd your city would be, and I was distracted enough to miss the demons. Irresponsible to be out alone, I know.” He looked a little exasperated with himself, and Kit chided himself for noting that it was the same expression Ty wore when he felt like there was something he was on the verge of figuring out, if he could just solve the last piece of the puzzle. 

“Well, I’m not going to be the one to criticize your Shadowhunting skills. Uh, do you need an _iratze_?”

“I had meant to find your infirmary, if you have one, and clean it up first. If you could guide me-?”

“Oh, yeah. Follow me.” Kit hastened his pace as he made the detour, thinking that perhaps Jesse’s wound might be worse than it looked. “Did you know that out of all Shadowhunter families, the Blackthorns have the most members who want or have wanted to kill me at some point?” 

“My sister Grace has already tried to kill you?” Jesse sounded puzzled. 

“No, I meant your descendants. There’s quite a few of them, too. Doesn’t the implied killing concern you? Not even a little?” 

Jesse didn't sound particularly concerned. “My _descendants_?”

“Well, yes, you didn’t think you’d die childless, did you?”

“I already did once,” said Jesse darkly, and Kit clapped a hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just said- more importantly, what he’d just nearly revealed. 

They entered a spare room Tessa had fixed up as an infirmary, and Kit helped Jesse with his wound and bandages before taking a perch on the countertop. He offered _iratzes_ , but the other boy said he would do his own runes later. Kit was reminded of himself, how the only people who he allowed to mark him were Ty, a long time ago in London, and Jem. 

Jesse thanked Kit, about to take his leave, and then asked curiously, as if unable to stop himself, “If I may, why do they want to kill you?”

“Huh? Oh, you mean the Blackthorns. Well, let’s see.” Kit ran a hand through his hair, then said, trying to pass it off as casual talk, “They took me in for a few weeks, when I first found out I was a Shadowhunter. And then we fought a huge war, and I found out I could do things like this-” he made a gesture with his hand, and bright white sparks shot into the air- “And then I left, without saying goodbye. So when I saw them again after that they almost murdered me.”

“Is that the summarized version?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. One of them tried to kill me before all the others, though. He broke into my house, actually. Almost slit my throat.”

“Odd way to meet someone, but I really shouldn’t judge. Erm, my apologies if this is strange, but how many of them are there exactly? Blackthorns. How many do you know?”

“Seven. And I think there’s a great-great-aunt or something holding out in London? She's about a million years old, apparently.”

“Seven children? Their poor parents. Though maybe it would be nice to have a big family, and lots of siblings to...talk with, and things.” Jesse sounded a little sad, and Kit might have asked about it if he hadn’t focused on the first part of his statement. 

“Their parents aren’t there. Haven’t been there for a while, actually. I promise, you don’t want to know.” Kit bit back sharper words, uncharacteristically touchy on the subject of the Mortal War. He hoped he hadn’t startled Jesse, but Kit didn’t want anyone to be more troubled than they already were, and describing the various wars that had taken place in his past and their future could only lead to more worry. It wasn’t a good topic to follow.

Jesse seemed to understand. He said, “Well. Thank you, once again, Kit. If you’ll excuse me, I should go finish fixing myself up-”

Kit waved him off, suspecting he knew where the other boy was going- more like, who he was trying to avoid. Just before he left, Kit called, "Jesse."

He turned halfway. "Yes?"

"Don't blame yourself for the demons. Just... if you're going somewhere take someone else with you."

Something flashed across Jesse's face, startling Kit- but the defiance, the anger, even- was gone as soon as it came. He nodded, and left.

Kit made up his mind then. Resigning himself to a long argument, he sighed, and made his way out of the infirmary towards the library, to find Magnus. He rarely saw him elsewhere. 

On his way, Kit passed James and Cordelia, talking very intently about something like they weren't in the middle of the corridor where anyone could see them. They both jumped when Kit turned the corner, and he raised an eyebrow at James, who blushed and sprang back. Kit shook his head, trying not to smile, and entered the library. Magnus looked up and inclined his head, and Kit said, "Two things."

"Good evening to you too, Herondale," Magnus said, stretching his arms up behind his head. Had he been sitting there all day? "Or is it morning already? Go on, say what you need to say."

"Firstly, what do you know about the consequences of telling anyone from the past about their future? Exactly how much _Back To The Future_ can I expect from this situation?"

"Mmm. Not much. I wouldn't overdo it. Don't go into unnecessary details, but we're not sending them back unless we're sure we can wipe their short-term memories. Otherwise this mess could get even worse."

"Do they know that? That we're going to get them back with memories wiped or not at all? And is that even how memory works, like, scientifically?"

"We're going to have to tell them," said Magnus grimly. "And magic is not science, Kit. You know that."

"I know." 

He walked up beside Magnus, inspecting the papers he was studying. "Magnus, there's something else."

"There always is," he responded, reaching for a folder on top of a dangerously wobbling stack of books. "What happened this time? Did someone else offend their love interest? I swear, your lives are a bad TV soap opera. With a hell of a lot more danger."

"Magnus, if Shadowhunter life is a soap opera, you would consistently be a main character," Kit said. 

"I suppose I would be. And of course I would be the most _glamorous_ main character," Magnus corrected. "Now stop dragging it out, will you?"

Kit raised his chin, knowing already what Magnus would say. "I think we should enlist the help of Drusilla Blackthorn."

Magnus looked up at him disbelievingly. "Of course not. Kit-"

Kit plowed on, desperate. "Magnus, we both know we can't keep doing this by ourselves until Jem and Tessa eventually find out. Dru's one of the smartest out there, and she has unfettered access to Academy resources. There might be something there she could look into for us, and she won't be questioned for looking into them. Maybe I could, but it would raise suspicion. We don't need that to become one of our worries."

Magnus's eyes darkened. "Do you know how dangerous this is?"

"Magnus, I trust her with my life-"

"Do you trust her with Ty's? Or Tessa's?"

Kit held Magnus's searching gaze, understanding the question. "I trust her with Mina's," he said honestly. 

Magnus exhaled. After a long pause, he relented. "Portal her here, and do it quietly."

Kit gaped, not believing his luck. _I passed the test, I guess_. Magnus gave him a crooked smile. "Go."

And Kit went. Soon enough, he would have Dru by his side, and Kit would be lying if he said it wasn't a comfort. Maybe they could deal with this after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading! I'd love for you to drop in a comment on what you think! 
> 
> ***Radio show host voice***
> 
> Developments over the course of What Happens Next feature: Dru and Kit bro content, still MORE angsty Blackdale because I have about a thousand requests for them in my inbox (can't say I'm mad about that though), annoying demons who are useful only in that the injuries they cause are helpful in creating ANGST...
> 
> and, drumroll please: the one... the ONLY... Jem Carstairs!!! Or, as some prefer to call him, Brother Sixpackariah. Can't wait to share the next part!


End file.
